


Vena Amoris

by damalur



Category: Marvel, Marvel 616, Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-14
Updated: 2010-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 14:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damalur/pseuds/damalur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And sometimes, Peter has this dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vena Amoris

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle VIII and set post OMD/BND.

And sometimes he has this dream:

He wakes up. He is not in his old, narrow bed in Aunt May's house in Forest Hills. He is not alone in his bed at all. Beside him is a woman, asleep on her side (always the left, never the right); the covers are flung back, and she's dressed only in a navy NYU t-shirt that Peter recognizes as his own.

_Mary Jane_, he thinks, even though he should think, _Why is she—_

On a purely physical level—on _every_ level—MJ remains the single most beautiful woman Peter has ever seen in a magazine, a book, a newspaper, on television, or in real life. She really is _that_ stunning, _that_ jaw-droppingly, mind-numbingly gorgeous—but to Peter, she still is and always will be the girl next door.

Her eyelashes flutter. Her eyes sweep open. She says—

_"Hey, tiger."_

"Hey, MJ," Peter says back, and she smiles at him: Wide and drowsy and wholly content and wholly trusting. There is not a thing, there is not a single facet of his life that Peter would not sacrifice to have that smile directed solely at him every morning, noon, and night. "Didn't mean to wake you," he says.

_"Sure you didn't,"_ she says, and her smile turns playful, and she kisses him. _"Sure you didn't,"_ she murmurs, and kisses him open-mouthed, glides her lips over his own and then shifts to straddle him, grinding and rocking and—

Here are things that Peter finds beautiful about MJ: Her hair, less for the thick, bright cascade itself than for her self-conscious vanity about it. Her eyes, less for the brilliant emerald in its own right than for the way they sparkle when she's shooting his bullcrap right back at him. Her hands, because they are the strongest hands he knows, stronger than the Hulk's or Ben Grimm's or Peter's own; her lips, because they at turns resist and yield to him; her heart.

He splays a hand over the curve of her hip and returns the kiss with fervor. His other hand trails down her arm and twines with her hand—

And only then does he feel the ring on her finger.

Peter wakes up.


End file.
